Call all hands aft, Barry; let them choose." The men crowded aft, and Tim spoke to them.
"We're in for an ugly night, my lads, and we're on a rotten boat.

The carpenter says, unless we run before the wind, we shall go to pieces in half-an-hour.

I say, if we do run, we shall be on Slyne Head in two hours.

Which shall it be?
I don't mind much myself." "Put it to the vote," said one.
So a vote was taken, and of forty men who voted, twenty-five were for death in two hours, and fifteen for death in an hour.
"Very good," said Tim.

"Get to your posts, and remember you are under orders till we strike.